Chapter 8 - The Siege of Lake Michigan
The night erupted into terror at 2:00 a.m.
Tessa sat fully clothed on the edge of her bed in her third-floor quarters, staring at the locked door. Outside, the freezing rain lashed against the bulletproof glass windows of the estate in violent, chaotic sheets.
Suddenly, a loud, muffled explosion rocked the foundation of the house.
BOOM!
The lights in her room flickered wildly and died, plunging her space into complete pitch darkness, illuminated only by the strobing lightning outside.
High-powered automatic gunfire erupted from the front gates—a deafening, chaotic chatter of assault rifles that shattered the night's quiet.
Tessa gasped, throwing herself off the bed and crouching flat against the carpet near the nightstand, her pulse racing so hard she felt sick. Sal Falcone had launched a direct assault on the Rossi estate.
Shouts, shattering glass, and echoing gunshots echoed from the lower levels of the house.
Tessa pulled her knees to her chest, trying desperately to remember Leo’s explicit instructions: Lock the door. Do not come down.
Ten minutes passed like an agonizing eternity. The gunfire outside began to die down, replaced by the sharp, concussive pops of handguns inside the main foyer below.
Suddenly, heavy, hurried footsteps rushed up the servants' stairwell directly outside her room.
A loud body slammed against her door.
Tessa held her breath, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a scream.
The brass handle jiggled wildly, then snapped completely as a heavy boot kicked the lock open with a splintering crash.
The door flew inward. Framed in the doorway by the faint moonlight streaming through the corridor window stood a broad, masked gunman wearing black tactical gear, holding a smoking submachine gun. He smelled heavily of cordite and sweat.
He swept the dark room with his weapon's tactical flashlight, the blinding beam cutting through the shadows until it locked directly onto Tessa crouching near the bed.
"Well, well," the gunman sneered through his ski mask, stepping into the room. "Look what we have here. A pretty little prize hiding in the dark."
Tessa scrambled backward, her back hitting the nightstand. "Get away from me!"
The gunman raised his weapon, pointing the barrel straight at her chest. "Stand up, sweet cheeks. Falcone wants leverage over Rossi, and I think you’ll do just—"
Before he could finish his sentence, a dark figure appeared behind him in the doorway like a phantom.
A long, suppressed pistol pressed firmly against the back of the gunman’s neck.
Pfft-pfft.
Two quiet, muffled pops echoed through the room.
The gunman’s eyes rolled back, and he collapsed forward onto the carpet like a sack of wet cement, dead before he hit the floor.
Leo Rossi stepped over the body into the room.
He was breathing heavily, his dark wool sweater torn at the shoulder, a smear of dark blood running down the side of his sharp jawline. In his right hand, he held a black custom SIG Sauer pistol, smoke rising faintly from the suppressor.
Tessa stared up at him in sheer, speechless horror and intense relief.
Leo dropped to his knees in front of her, setting his smoking gun on the floor. He grabbed her arms, pulling her up against his chest, his hands frantically checking her face and neck for injuries.
"Are you hurt?" Leo demanded, his voice thick with an uncharacteristic, frantic panic. "Tessa! Did he touch you?!"
"I'm—I'm okay," Tessa sobbed out, burying her face into his blood-stained chest, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist. "I'm not hurt! I'm okay!"
Leo let out a long, ragged breath, holding her tightly against him in the pitch-dark room, his strong arms wrapping around her like an impenetrable fortress.
"They breached the gates," Leo growled softly into her hair, his body trembling with a lethal rage. "Falcone sent six teams. They're all dead downstairs."
He pulled back slightly, holding her face between his large, warm hands, forcing her to look into his intense, burning eyes.
"I told you no one touches what is mine," Leo whispered fiercely. "I will burn this entire city to the ground before I let anyone hurt you, Tessa."
Tessa looked into his dark eyes, seeing the absolute, terrifying truth behind his words. She reached up, her trembling fingers gently touching the cut on his jawline, wiping away the dark blood.
May you like
"I know," Tessa whispered softly.
And in the dark, surrounded by death and blood, Leo leaned down and pressed his lips firmly against hers in a desperate, fiercely protective kiss that consumed them both.
